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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423100">Matter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwaKitsune/pseuds/IwaKitsune'>IwaKitsune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cost of the Crown [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But also, Canon Cutscene Extension, Chapter 1- that one cutscene, Chapter 2- in which morag talks about the whole party with niall, Chapter 3- the OTHER cutscene and niall doing some stuff behind the scenes, Character Study, Gen, I mean this lad did Die for a sec there, More tags to be added, Niall-centric, Self-Sacrifice, Survivor Guilt, and the almost permanent consequences of it (mentioned), headcanons, mentions of blood and injury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:48:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwaKitsune/pseuds/IwaKitsune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(Spoilers for Chapter 6)<br/>The world is made of ether. Amongst its many uses and attributes, it's the energy that allows life to cycle and continue. Returning someone's life is not an easy feat. Recovering from said brush with death is not easy either.<br/>But the world will not slow down to grant him rest, and Niall won't allow himself become a burden, not when he's meant to be a pillar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kagutsuchi | Brighid &amp; Meleph | Mòrag Ladair, Kagutsuchi | Brighid &amp; Nephel | Niall Ardanach, Meleph | Mòrag Ladair &amp; Nephel | Niall Ardanach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cost of the Crown [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2258039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Solidity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello xenoblade fandom it's been Years since I wrote anything for this, but talking with friends and latching onto characters has made me create this. Apologies if I get something wrong, I have not yet finished the game (I'm watching Chugga's LP and having a blast but also I Want More and might have spoiled a couple things for myself but still not Enough), but still hope this is enjoyable!<br/>This one is mostly the First cutscene of That One Part, so warning for that content! Next chapter is mostly unique and will be posted tomorrow tho.<br/>(Also a tiny shout-out to other fics in the Niall tag cause I've read so many of them and I loved them and they lowkey inspired me to try this out myself, salutes)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How strange, the solidity of air.<br/>
 <br/>
Almost as if waking from sleep, Niall couldn’t remember when it had gone dark, or exactly how long it took for his brain to process his surroundings. He was certain, however, that he had been brought to awareness by a blooming stinging in his throat as air that tasted fresh and heavy ran anew down his windpipe.<br/>
 <br/>
He became conscious of the weight of his limbs, numb as if they had been frozen over and shackled, and of the ache slowly spreading through his veins, centered in his chest, sitting there like a rock between his ribs. Chipped away, though less like stone and more like smoke, with every beat of his heart and careful inhalations, feeling tender in a way that made him hesitate to let his lungs fill up.<br/>
 <br/>
There, too, was a warmth and pressure over the place that radiated the pain, something not quite as tangible as hands and not as incorporeal as the rock that made breathing hard. His eyes opened slowly, unfocused, as he tried to get his lagging thoughts to identify the feeling--like air but more solid, a forcefield, charged with something that felt like static and the flow of water and a breath of life.<br/>
 <br/>
It helped fill up his lungs, encouraging deeper inhalations, and bringing a warm stinging to it, like the pins and needles of a limb moved after it had fallen asleep. He breathed in and it was slow and delicate and maybe not enough, but it was a touch more than he had before, and he turned his head--allowed it roll, mostly--and tried to focus his eyes to something clearer than a play of shadows and lights blurring around the edges, towards the source of an exhalation that was shakier than his own with relief and determination.<br/>
 <br/>
“Good, stay with me. Slow breaths,” the voice was muffled to his hearing, with a tone he hardly understood past his thoughts dripping slowly like molasses and the low ringing on his ear he only just distinguished.<br/>
 <br/>
His sight refused to do as he tried, the attempt ended by a light that swirled in the air and emanated from the person’s hands as she hovered them over his chest, pushing down the energy into him, and instead of making the pressure on his chest unbearable, it coaxed his lungs to fill with air, his heart to squeeze (and it hurt, like a bruise poked over and over, but it pumped), and a buzz of energy under his skin and through his body, cooler than his blood and just as essential.<br/>
 <br/>
He saw her silhouette past the light, the shape of her ears that marked her as Gormotti. (There had been a Gormotti girl earlier, hadn’t there...? She had fought by Mòrag’s side, with rings that had glowed blue as she cast healing arts. Perhaps that is what kept him from feeling any kind of unease--his sister trusted her to keep her standing, trusted the group she was a part of. He could, too.) But there was...<br/>
 <br/>
“You are...” he breathed out, moments after managing to make air leave his lungs with a semblance of steadiness. Her silhouette was different. The Core Crystal on her chest, aglow with energy like the one on her hands, wasn’t a clear color. And even to his slow thoughts, he knew that was off in more ways than one.<br/>
 <br/>
“Shh. You’re gonna be fine,” she cut in as he trailed off, her voice steadying and calm and something he was starting to place with a face much more recognizable to him, and he found that he believed her.<br/>
 <br/>
He hadn’t realized how cold he felt until the warmth on his chest started spreading to his limbs and the numbness shifted to something closer to static and ice, and the low burning that came with the attempts to remove it. He shuddered, stuttering his breath, and closing his eyes as the girl shushed him again, encouraging him to focus on breathing.<br/>
 <br/>
He slowly recalled what had happened mere minutes prior, why there was a pervasive chill to him, why there were flares of pain through him, distant but so hard to ignore, even as Nia worked to heal what she could, and all Niall could really do was latch to her promise for strength.</p><p>(The panic as realization lodged in his throat. The visceral clarity of what he needed to do.</p><p>The order ripped from his lungs, followed with no hesitation. Feeling the ether washing over his frame as both he and Aegaeon leaped forward in unison, something like a film of water coming from the link built between their ether signatures. Continuing running further. The swift tingling as he passed through the large blue bubble of the shield, allowed passage only because the shield and film had the same source.</p><p>The cord stretched thin, a twinge of surprise in the flow. His hand reaching desperately for the large purple Nopon, trying to stop him from detonating the bomb, or getting him away from the explosion. His hand brushing against something. A click. </p><p>Stumbling. Ringing. Looking back, everyone standing. A breath of relief punctuated by a sharp pain between his ribs. </p><p>Dark.)<br/>
 <br/>
The ache in his chest lessened as his breathing evened, still a little wheezed and gritted through his teeth and, once again, he couldn’t quite focus. Neither on what he had done and nor in the present. The ringing in his ear was too distracting, the darkness threatening and blurring his perception too alluring, the light and warmth of healing ether moving to his iced limbs and reawakening sharp stinging and pains in them, only to soothe into something that ached dully, tender and hurt still.<br/>
 <br/>
It moved, lastly, to cup his cheek--but the flow had grown weaker, steady but shallow, like the droplets that escaped a pipe rather than the current inside of it. And the numbed pain there was... he couldn’t tell if the discomfort there was hot or cold, but it hardly mattered to him when he could tell she was wringing herself for energy, her breathing getting heavier with effort.<br/>
 <br/>
“S...stop,” he spoke up, the request clear and firm, even when his voice was still thin and fragile, “I can... handle it from here...”<br/>
 <br/>
“... lots of bravery in you...” she muttered, and he could feel the momentary hesitation in the ether flow washing over him before it gently tapered away.<br/>
 <br/>
It took a few moments for him to gather the will and energy to pry his eyes open again, after the brightness behind his eyelids dimmed down to only the hangar’s lights, allowing him focus without as much struggle.<br/>
 <br/>
Kneeled to his side was the Gormotti girl he had seen fighting alongside his sister, with the boy who had bonded with the Aegis and the strange little squad they had formed with equally unique, peculiar individuals. There she was, with short gray hair and the ears that blended into it pulled back in exhaustion and... something else, maybe. (Worry? Perhaps. Its reason? More than he had energy to name.)<br/>
 <br/>
The yellow of her jumpsuit was... not what he recalled seeing barely a minute ago, and there was no Core Crystal in sight, and he remembered she was a Driver in the first place, but her Blade--a white tiger, large and imposing--wasn’t around for her to have used his ether signature for the healing arts. And Niall knew, with certainty, something was wrong.<br/>
 <br/>
But he was kind before everything, and she was still checking his pulse and nudging away the shrapnel she had removed as she tried to patch the worst of the damage, of what had dug into his flesh even past the protective ether barrier that his active connection as Driver with Aegaeon had summoned. Her hands shook a bit, careful still not to accidentally scratch him.<br/>
 <br/>
Yellow eyes met blue. Sharp and warm and somehow scared against the dazed, slowly realizing and understanding.<br/>
 <br/>
With strength he didn’t know the source of, his hand shifted and touched hers where it rested on the floor next to him, too weak still to lift more than breath from the hard metal of the hangar and hold onto her with anything that wasn’t negligible, ignoring the pains that bloomed on his forearm with the movement.<br/>
 <br/>
“I won’t breathe a word,” he promised, voice hardly audible as he still figured how to work his tongue around the tired exhalations. Her shoulders tensed and relaxed and she looked away, ears lowering further, and even in his current state he knew she feared something. He figured what it might be. “You gave me back my life,” Niall breathed out and realized the truth in the statement, and wasn’t sure what to do with it, but pressed forward, weakly squeezing her hand enough to get her to meet his gaze again. “I swear on it, I won’t breathe a word.”<br/>
 <br/>
“More than bravery, then... I can see why Mòrag...” she muttered to herself, sighing, and the way her shoulders dropped further, and the hand returned the squeeze was enough to let Niall know that she was going to dare and believe his promise. “Save your strength... Y-your Majesty,” she told him, almost like a chide, only to add the title as if it were only then that she remembered who she was kneeling next to, “would be a right shame if you collapsed after all that.”<br/>
 <br/>
He almost managed a smile, the tug of his lips making an ache more noticeable on his face, but he still let out a small exhalation, pantomime of a laugh. Noise came from a distance away, constant but not rushed steps amplified as they bounced off the metal floors and walls, and voices to accompany them. He watched as the girl turned to attention, ears flicking forward, and swiftly climbed back to her feet.<br/>
 <br/>
“Heeeey! Hey, you guys!” Nia called out loudly just as he turned his head enough to look at the source of the sounds. The ragtag group of interesting people, and amongst them--he hardly paid attention to Nia announcing he was awake as he shakily leaned on his elbow and started the arduous struggle to stand up, feeling her hands on his shoulder and other arm to serve as support as he found the ground beneath his feet, and carefully straightened to his meager but full height, uncaring of how the effort made his chest hurt.<br/>
 <br/>
It mattered little. Whatever pain he was in, it was minuscule compared to the pain he had put his dear sister through, or to the relief that flooded through both of them as he rose to his feet and she ran, the metal of her boots clanging solidly against the hangar’s floor and there wasn’t a second of hesitation before he was swiftly engulfed in a hug that was warm and familiar.<br/>
 <br/>
Her hands resting on the back of his head and between his shoulders, her head tucking low to press her cheek to the crown of his head, bringing him to a comfort he hadn’t truly felt in too long, and it was equal parts instinct and relief what made him curl his arms just as tightly around her middle like it was the most natural thing to do. Somewhat numb fingers grasping the fabric of her uniform as he allowed himself rest against her, shifting only enough to press the cheek that didn’t tingle with discomfort against her chest. Mòrag whispered his name once into his hair, and he could feel her voice trembling just so, this up close, and he could hear the elation and the edging wetness of tears, and Niall scrunched his face a little as he swallowed back his own, nuzzling into the embrace.<br/>
 <br/>
“I apologize... for making you worry,” he said with a small smile, steady and calm as he always was, when Mòrag broke away just enough to cup his face and allowed herself to look him over, taking in the wounds marring his skin and the fact he was alive and breathing, honey-brown eyes shining with euphoria and relief that hadn’t danced there in... a long time. (And tears, too, that hadn’t been allowed there in too long, hadn’t been allowed to fall, and it made his heart ache that he was the source of so much for her right now. But it was good, it was better, that it was for this reason and not the alternative.)<br/>
 <br/>
An alternative that was still too present in her mind, the memory of his weight on her arms, heavier than he was and growing colder by the second, the rawness of the burn on his face and the blood from the cuts, the way his head lolled as she futilely tried to shake him awake. To see his eyes open, exhausted but clear, painted her tone with joy and disbelief. “Majesty! It’s... it’s a miracle.”<br/>
 <br/>
“When Aegaeon returned to his core...!” Brighid voice came from somewhere a little past Mòrag, close enough that maybe she would have reached for him as well, breathless with relief before sighing out the last of her sentence. “I was certain we had lost you.”<br/>
 <br/>
He paused, focusing on her words repeating in his mind, Nia’s voice drowned out by his thoughts.<br/>
 <br/>
Mòrag’s voice, hovering over his head, questioned how this could happen, the gravity of his wounds (the heavy slackness of his body, corpse, like a doll with its strings cut going unmentioned, but impossible to forget). Nia said something about them just being scratches.<br/>
 <br/>
Aegaeon.<br/>
 <br/>
His chest squeezed again, and it was enough to make him drag in a hissed gasp through his teeth as he flinched, fists tightening on his sister’s uniform as a spell of darkness threatened the edges of his vision and forced him to lean his weight on her for balance. He could feel the tension on her shoulders at that, the stab of panic, and felt guilt in his stomach for it, mumbling out another apology as he tried to regain his own footing, unable to do much more than shift in her arms as she changed her hold and drew him closer again.<br/>
 <br/>
“A-alright, maybe more than just scratches...” came Nia’s voice, still muffled as he took a second to push down the dizziness.<br/>
 <br/>
Niall shuffled a little, just enough to be able to glance away, searching. A strange lack of something that had lingered inside his chest, all too apparent now that he tried to grasp it, coming up empty handed. He saw the Core Crystal, colorless and dull, abandoned on the floor. His heart ached again, and he forced himself to let out a slow breath, speaking quietly and carefully, trying to reassure the one holding him up even as dawning realization climbed his throat. “I... I’m fine, I just...”<br/>
 <br/>
Wordlessly, Brighid walked over, taking the Crystal in her hands delicately before returning to Niall and her Driver’s side, offering it to him. He knew the hand to accept it was his, even though it didn’t feel it was, and he tucked the Crystal to his chest. Silent and cold, nowhere near the strong, gentle pulse that it had once, many years ago, when it rested ready to wake on his palms, or countless times after that, when it felt like a current and whirlpool and the ebb and cradle of deep waters if he focused on it.<br/>
 <br/>
Mòrag squeezed around his shoulders ever so lightly, and he closed his eyes and pushed down the thoughts. Aegaeon was gone for now, permanently and yet not, it was just... it was just time. He would return in due time. It wasn’t like him.<br/>
 <br/>
If he, Emperor of Mor Ardain, had gone--remained gone--there would be no return at all.<br/>
 <br/>
He couldn’t let that fact be forgotten, even when sadness slowly threatened to drown him if he allowed himself to think about it. Not yet. (Not ever? He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t not mourn the loss of his companion, even if it wasn’t forever.)<br/>
 <br/>
“Nia, correct?” he asked, pulling half a step away from Mòrag so he could face the Gormotti, managing a smile tinged with exhaustion and contained despondency and very real gratitude. “Thank you.”<br/>
 <br/>
“I truly don’t know how to...” Mòrag started and trailed off, at a loss for words like few times she ever truly was, “I won’t ever be able to repay you for what you’ve...”<br/>
 <br/>
“Oh, don’t sweat it,” Nia replied, waving both off casually before crossing her arms in front of her chest, smiling back at them, with Dromarch sitting by her side with his long white tail curled around his paws. “Let’s just say you owe me one. That’ll do fine, right? I think there’s something more pressing right about now. I couldn’t fix everything, and some rest is in order, Majesty.”<br/>
 <br/>
He chuckled softly, amused by the fact it felt like she was chiding him still (how rare, very few people would dare do that, particularly in such a casual manner), but he couldn’t deny she was right. He could only nod, glancing back at Mòrag as she nudged him in just the way she used to signal him when he was younger. He took notice of how his limbs struggled to hold him up and sighed. Soon enough, he found himself struggling not to doze off on her arms as fatigue hit him, head resting heavy on her shoulder as Brighid’s voice faded in the distance, likely finishing some loose end conversations with a promise of later as he was carried with steady steps to his quarters, Mòrag’s voice only raising to request (demand) a medic follow when they spotted a group of soldiers down a hallway.<br/>
 <br/>
His hands still cupped the dull Crystal to his stomach.<br/>
 <br/>
How painful, the loss of solidity.</p>
<hr/><p>“We cannot thank you enough for the aid you have provided,” Brighid said, dipping her head a little and resting her hand on her chest. “Were you not present, I’m unsure what would have happened in the end. However, with what just occurred, I’ll have to request you leave the battleship. Allow me to accompany you to the outside so as to not have the soldiers act recklessly.”</p><p>“Yeah, got the feeling this place will go up like a kicked skeeters’ nest,” Zeke said, glancing over as soldiers started hurrying along the corridors. With a nod towards the hangar’s door, he cued Brighid to lead the march and made sure to bring up the rear of the group as they started moving.</p><p>“Brighid?” Rex called to her as they all followed, rubbing the back of his neck with concern clear on his face, “is Mòrag gonna be okay? I’ve never seen her like that.” He crossed his arms, frowning at the floor. “We’ve seen her rightfully angry and such before, but that was something way different.”</p><p>“She is a proud Ardainian through and through,” Dromarch rumbled from Nia’s side, letting her stroke his fur and lean on him, “and many Ardainians are known for their loyalty to the crown. Someone of her station would have a connection to the Emperor.”</p><p>“I mean, yeah, I could see that,” Rex replied, looking at him, “but she wasn’t just angry or worried. She was really shaken. Like, I’m not imagining that.”</p><p>“Well, duh, I’m not surprised at all.”</p><p>Nia huffed at him, glaring a little over her shoulder. “How so, Shellhead? With that tone, you make it sound like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t know from experience, what with being an only child, but I’d guess if something like that happened to Pandy...”</p><p>Dromarch lifted his head a little, ears perking up. “Ah, I had heard the rumor, but wasn’t certain if it was to be believed.”</p><p>“Uh? What do you mean, Dromarch?” Nia asked, turning her attention back to her Blade.</p><p>Brighid stopped as they reached the outside of the battleship, a little further down the dock to not get in the way of soldiers, before turning around to face them with a guarded expression. “As Zeke implied, the Emperor and Lady Mòrag are related,” she only quirked her brow a little as the three younger Drivers gapped at her, Poppi and Mythra showing more subdued signs for vastly different reasons, a small cacophony of ‘what?!’ accompanying their surprise. “It is not a secret, though also not a fact that is often spoken of.”</p><p>“Why so?” Rex asked, blinking at her owlishly.</p><p>“She wants to stand by her own merits.” Brighid crossed an arm in front of herself, resting the elbow of the other on her hand. “On the early days of Lady Mòrag’s training in the military, some believed that their shared blood led to favoritism and that she climbed the ranks because of it. They all quickly learned that her prowess was her own, but she had decided that flaunting her heritage was unnecessary.”</p><p>“Siblings, I presume?” Dromarch asked, receiving a nod from the fire Blade. “That would explain many things indeed...”</p><p>“Mòrag is... the Emperor’s sister?!” Nia gasped, still struggling to accept the fact. “But wait, she’s older than him, wouldn’t she have taken the throne?”</p><p>“Mor Ardain’s crown is passed down to male heirs,” Zeke explained, waving his hand a little, “that’s all you need to know about that whole situation.”</p><p>“I just can’t believe they are...” Nia trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest and flicking an ear. Her brief encounter and semi-conversation with the Emperor replaying in her mind--the bravery, the steadiness, the all too clear similarities shining amongst their differences. But the crux of the matter was Mòrag’s reactions to his falling and his subsequent recovery. “Never mind. On second thought, I can see it.”</p><p>“That said, with this delicate a situation, there are matters Lady Mòrag must attend to,” Brighid said, “I ask you for your patience and not seek her out for the time being. We are aware of the urgency in setting off to Tantal, if we are to have any information or decisions, it’d have to be tomorrow at the earliest.”</p><p>Mythra shook her head. “No, we understand just--take care, okay? All of you.”</p><p>“Your concern is appreciated.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nebulous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The lull after the storm could be just as charged with electricity, especially when one isn't quite ready to face what have taken place.<br/>It was natural to crave for a distraction or normalcy. Mòrag could try to indulge her brother that, at least.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not Know how military titles work (there isn't even military in my country) so if anyone wants to nitpick on that feel free to, otherwise I'm just trying my best.<br/>{Plus, writing this made me realize how much I want Brighid and Niall to interact too}</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hours had passed and the buzzing inside the Ardainian ship had lulled to calm--the news spread quickly, every soldier present relieved to hear that the young Emperor had survived the assassination attempt, joyous even though they knew the harsh reprimands for having allowed it to get that far in the first place would return soon.</p><p>The medic had exited the room after finishing tending to the sluggish young Emperor, leaving only him, the Special Inquisitor, and her Blade inside it. Most of the soldiers and personnel were well aware that the Special Inquisitor would not make an appearance in the immediate future outside of the room, but when not even the Blade had emerged in a somewhat considerable amount of time after the medic had left, the other higher-ups decided to act.</p><p>It was the leader of the Imperial Special Guard Unit tasked with protecting the crown--a force known for being second in skills and loyalty to the Emperor only to the imperial Blades and Mòrag herself--who mustered up the courage to knock on the door, bringing a tray with food for them; the meeting with the Urayan Queen never did take place and it was long past the scheduled time.</p><p>“Nourishment is essential for recovery, Special Inquisitor,” the colonel said when Mòrag didn’t make to take the offer, staring down at it.</p><p>It was Brighid who spoke as she nudged past her Driver and took the tray, serene smile on her face. “I have to agree, Lady Mòrag. Thank you, Colonel Foirbeis, we will inform you if there’s a need for assistance of some sort. For now, please ensure that no one disturbs His Majesty.”</p><p>He gave a quick salute and marched away as Brighid brought the delivery in, bidding her Driver to close the door. She set the tray on the side table, offering one of the cups to Niall as he carefully shifted to sit up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. His outfit had been changed for something simpler, easier access to clean and dress his wounds with bandages and a patch on the side of his face, still looking paler than he should and unable to really hide the occasional wince of discomfort that merely breathing could bring. Soreness combining with the adrenaline long since faded, but nothing life-threatening anymore.</p><p>“Here, Majesty.”</p><p>“I apologize,” he started, glancing at the cup, “I’m not sure I have the appetite, Brighid.”</p><p>“I can imagine, but I must insist,” she hummed, not budging from her position. “Perhaps not a full meal, but something is better than nothing at all. Your body will need energy to recover and, as Colonel Foirbeis said, nourishment is essential.” For a moment, it felt like she was back in the palace or even the estate back in Gormott years ago, helping convince the young heir to eat when he fell sick with a runny nose and sore throat. How she wished the situation was something as simple as a cold, but the approach was nevertheless similar.</p><p>Maybe he was reminded as well, and knew it was silly and futile to refuse for long--even if all he could manage was down a cup of water and a nibble of bread, it would still be a better use for the energy he had than resisting. It would help ease everyone’s minds, too.</p><p>“Very well, but...” he paused for effect, smiling innocently at the two women as they perked to attention at his words, “... only if you two join me.”</p><p>Mòrag blinked, Brighid stifled a small laugh. “A reasonable request, wouldn’t you agree, Lady Mòrag?”</p><p>“I... suppose so,” she finally spoke, dropping her shoulders a little, sighing through her nose. Her Blade and brother shared one glance, simply glad to have her agree so easily. Both had worried, she had been so quiet for the last couple of hours.</p><p>A meal, a respite. Though none of them truly had much appetite, they still pecked at what the different dishes offered--nothing too fancy or rich like the banquet that had been planned, but that was for the better. And amongst the bites, perhaps, the chance for small chatter as distraction.</p><p>“May I ask you about them?” Niall ventured as he lowered the cup from his lips, having to let it rest propped on his lap to alleviate the ache on his arm and ribs. “The group who accompanies the Aegis.”</p><p>“I assume you would desire something different than what the reports say?” Brighid asked good-naturedly, quirking her brows a little.</p><p>“I’m quite curious about them as people,” he admitted, massaging the middle of his chest. “There’s a lot to them, much more than reports or even a distant watchful eye could tell. And you trust them, both of you do.”</p><p>Mòrag stared down at the plate in front of her, allowing the cutlery to sit there as she took a moment of consideration before looking up to meet the inquisitive blue eyes. “They are all quite capable, with different skills and drives that mold and counter each other. I would be hard pressed to say they are the most disciplined or legally abiding group for a variety of reasons, with plenty of property damage charges and trespassing; they are childish and naïve but, truthfully, they all seem to share and enkindle the same quality of kindness and hope within each other that war so easily shatters.”</p><p>The Blade nodded, stroking the side of her own cup with her thumb as she thought. “They are good people, though they might leap to erroneous conclusions and take questionable risks and measures in their quest to do as they must.”</p><p>“Something that we can’t say we’re exempt from,” Niall quipped, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment. “I held no doubt of that. Good people, dependable too. You did request their aid, after all.” They wouldn’t have been there earlier if they hadn’t had a good reason, if they hadn’t had explicit permission to enter and--frankly, no one but the Special Inquisitor would have had the authority to allow that when such a delicate matter was meant to take place. For Mòrag to have not only admit she needed help, but to have gone out and asked for it directly... there was a lot of trust there. It didn’t come easy for her, and it was hard earned.</p><p>“Is there anything you wish to know in particular?” Mòrag pressed, wishing to indulge his curiosity and distract him.</p><p>He leaned in a bit. “What can you tell me?”</p><p>Mòrag spoke as Brighid handed over a small plate Niall had reached for, “the group was originally conformed by three Drivers and their Blades. Currently there is a larger number of Blades ready to aid and accompany them, from Core Crystals they found discarded or lost, with several remarkable forces in their ranks. They have expressed interest in having me awaken some should the need arise. Regardless, they are often not accompanied by them, and mostly swap out team members if they show interest or desire to investigate or attend certain matters.”</p><p>Niall blinked, tilting his head, a gesture he only allowed himself to do because of who was present. “Several Blades? But they don’t always stay with them...?”</p><p>Brighid was the one to reply: “They are affiliated with a Mercenary group, through means I’m unsure we can disclose. But I stand by the knowledge that it’s a benign organization known as the Garfont Mercenaries. Whenever a Blade isn’t with the Aegis’s group, they are in the neutral and safe village the Mercenary group has created in Uraya, or off doing missions that the group receives. They range from requests in gathering items to dealing with dangerous creatures, bodyguards for merchants and less pressing matters. In a way, they still align with what seems to be the group’s drive: aiding others.”</p><p>Niall nodded, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Fascinating. Have you two thought about it?”</p><p>“Whatever do you mean?” Mòrag asked.</p><p>“Awakening other Blades,” he clarified after a second of consideration. “You and Brighid are already a force to reckon with, but I could imagine adding support to you two would make for an even greater display of skills and power.”</p><p>Mòrag hesitated, lowering her head a little as she felt Brighid’s subtle glance her way. While it was a good point... “Majesty... the imperial line, throughout history, has never had more than two Blades by their side.”</p><p>A heavy silence fell in the room. The dormant Core Crystal sat on the table next to the tray, no one had dared move it since it was placed there when the Emperor had been brought in. The elephant in the room they weren’t yet ready to acknowledge.</p><p>“... is there a reason for it to remain so? With how precarious the field and battle can be, I would find comfort in knowing there are more willing to aid you than not,” Niall finally muttered, his voice and expression carefully guarded and calm as he regarded both. He closed his eyes and gently shook his head before either could respond. “Regardless, it still feels like a report. You haven’t told me about them as individuals. What are they like?”</p><p>Mòrag wanted to go back, reply to the previous comment, and then thought better of it. It felt wrong to debate with him at the moment--discussions were something they could have with each other fairly freely, using the other as soundboard for ideas and how to present them to the Senate or simply to hear the other’s opinion on different topics. But she didn’t want to sour her brother’s mood any more than she already had, and his request was not difficult to comply to. Not like difficulty would ever stop her from trying to do as Niall requested; for him, she would move the Titans themselves if it were in her power.</p><p>“Ah, my apologies. I should start with the... leader, then,” she began. “The boy, Rex, is a salvager and a Driver, and the latter only when he came to the responsibility of being the Aegis’s chosen. He is very much a diamond in the rough: impulsive and clumsy still, but astonishingly capable and precise when needed. Quick on his feet, bright, resourceful, with much to learn but having already made great strides. And while he does seem to fall to tunnel vision, and doesn’t always know when to back down, he has...” she stopped for a moment, wondering how to put it into words, “he has so much hope inside of himself, such an unfaltering spirit and drive. He has both kindness and optimism in spades, with a mission and a promise that he refuses to let die before he sees it through.”</p><p>Niall’s expression softened as she spoke, once again entranced. How different just this one person was from almost everyone he knew or consistently interacted with. “The drive to keep going, and to hope even when life beats him down,” he repeated, somewhat lost in thought. “I truly would like to speak with him someday. Perhaps I should take a page from his book.”</p><p>“If I may be so bold, Majesty, I believe he would like to meet you as well someday,” Brighid said, allowing herself a half-smile and getting one from the Emperor in return. Mòrag could agree with the sentiment; Rex was a friendly person, he’d be at least somewhat keen on meeting someone important to her, though perhaps a tad intimidated by his position.</p><p>“His Blade, the Aegis, is... unique,” she said, once again grabbing her brother’s attention.</p><p>“She seemed a serious one, quick-tempered and to the point. At least, that’s the feeling she gave while at the summit--she was also quite beautiful,” Niall confessed, thinking back to that meeting back in the Praetorium, the agreement to call back weaponry and forces, and how it would have likely not been possible to reach that consensus if not for the oral reports of every neutral party that could be present. He leaned back on the pillows, glancing at the wall opposing him, squinting at it as he tried to remember what he’d seen too. “Though I seem to recall her appearance changing in bursts of ether in battle...?”</p><p>“Truth be, the Aegis accompanying Rex is two Blades, capable of switching back and forth,” Brighid said, “the one who spoke at the summit as a neutral witness is named Mythra, and your read on her isn’t far off.” Perhaps ‘serious’ wasn’t the exact word the fire Blade would use to describe her, but she certainly was blunt and abrasive and beautiful. Good hearted, too, but keeping everything an arm-length away. Much like Mòrag could be, truly. Brighid wouldn’t say it aloud. “Her other self, Pyra, is just as powerful and beautiful, only gentler and soft-spoken, deeply driven.” Taciturn, reserved, somehow... sad, but also brave, helpful, supportive. Part of her thought Niall could end like her. “Incidents aside, both Blades and their Driver balance each other greatly, though they require some strengthening still.”</p><p>“The Nopon, named Tora, is a learned genius with great skill with technology and machinery. He and his family had worked for generations to create a Blade, an artificial one, which he accomplished by himself years later, and he continues to upgrade her as he learns more. And yet, he’s still young, with several bad habits and vices that he has gained from questionable influences, and an absence of someone to correct his path,” Mòrag said, pushing down the urge to frown at some of the comments and actions of his that came to mind. “However, he still exhibits bravery and pride in himself and his work and seems keen to learn more of the world. Truthfully, I believe the group has been a good influence on him. The Blade, Poppi, is a force to reckon with, strong and capable beyond first glance, with abilities that make her a formidable ally. She is innocent and blunt in her deliveries and opinions and is unafraid to call out her Driver when he does or says questionable things--for the most part, at least. For her, too, the group has been a good influence.”</p><p>“I am quite fond of her,” Brighid admitted, hiding her smile behind her hand before letting it rest on her chest, contemplative. “It is impressive. Tora’s prowess with technology and his determination to be something he always dreamed of, and the result of that determination gaining a drive of her own; their bond is remarkable. It isn’t usual for a Blade to so bluntly and easily call their Driver out, and he did create her.”</p><p>“I was wondering about that. It is known that Nopon Drivers are rare... but they can be quite inventive.” If he felt any animosity to Nopons as a whole, it was well hidden, even from Brighid’s Keen Eye--but knowing him, it was unlikely he harbored those feelings in the first place. No use to condemn everyone for the actions of few. “To use such knowledge, create something so amazing in order to fulfill a wish...” Ah, there was so much to technology, to creating and learning and building, making things possible. Something created not with the end-goal of being a bigger, more difficult to topple weapon, but a path to greater possibilities... and yet, he knew the importance of the focus on weaponry, he couldn’t reproach it. Not with the crisis of resources the Ardainian Titan faced, not when he knew his people were starved for the security to take and to protect the precious pieces they did manage to grasp onto. Still, it would be wonderful to witness creations done for reasons not driven by desperation for stability one day. “And Nia?”</p><p>Right. The last two of the main little entourage. “She is...” Mòrag blanked, trying to find words to put together, something she had been rummaging for as she spoke of the others. What could she say of her? “An interesting case.” Glancing at Brighid for any kind of support or guidance only earned her a bemused quirk of her eyebrows, a half-smile as she waved her hand as if to encourage her to continue. The Driver barely resisted something dangerously close to a pout and looked away, focusing on putting her thoughts in order.</p><p>Seeing how she was drilling into the wall with her eyes, Niall decided to nudge her a bit. “She was the Torna prisoner you had let go at Gormott, wasn’t she?”</p><p>She raised her hand and pulled the visor of her hat a little lower, covering her face. “Yes, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Niall sighed, shoulders dropping a bit. “Please, you need not be so formal right now, sister... I did ask for this to not be a report. And like I said back then, you did what you believed was the best course of action... Truly, now you must agree with me that you certainly did the right thing.” How many things would have gone wildly different if she had been brought to a prison cell closer to the capital, if she had been actively chased down by the Ardainian army. “To think she was part of that group... and now, not only is she aiding the Aegis... but saved me as well, when Torna would benefit from Mor Ardain and Uraya going to war,” he hummed, tapping his fingers to his chest a couple times before turning his attention to his hand. The side felt slightly numb and he knew there were reddened patches under the pristine white of the bandages. “Proven many times. There are no doubts of her loyalties.”</p><p>Mòrag could feel Brighid’s eyes settling on her again, the worried twinge in the connection between them from the fire Blade as the Special Inquisitor too stared at Niall’s hand. The bandages winding around him felt like accusatory snakes. She had been unable to fulfill her duty, her one purpose. She failed him, her Emperor and brother. If not for Nia... “I owe her much.”</p><p>“As do I. Keeping all of you in one piece must be quite a trial,” he said with an easy smile.</p><p>Both the women paused, blinking at him. Brighid raised a hand to cover her mouth and hide a treacherous grin, Mòrag blinked again. Was that a... joke at her expense?</p><p>“Whatever do you mean, Majesty,” she said flatly.</p><p>Niall continued smiling innocently at her. “I have read the reports made of some of the Aegis group’s misadventures; heard of some of the areas traversed and know of creatures that linger in said places. And I know your fighting style and proclivity to engage in and welcome challenges, which I’m sure you’re capable of toppling, but if the rest of them are as... prone to causing chaos without as much experience, well...” he didn’t bother trying to hide his amusement, “she must have her job cut out for her.”</p><p>“Nia has certainly been an asset for all of us,” Brighid granted as Mòrag rolled her eyes. The two of them were a fine-tuned machine, but the rest of the group were akin to a wrench, and groups of monsters weren’t as easy to read and predict as a single opponent. While not as often as the others, she had been on the receiving end of the healing arts enough times to know she’d be remiss not to be grateful for them.</p><p>“She is not naïve in the same way the others can be, though she has her moments. She harbors a more realistic, if not grim, view of different situations, as well as some grievances on how others complicate things that seem so straightforward. She can be sarcastic and... hissy, for a lack of better term, and speaks her mind with little hesitation. Her Blade keeps her in line when her temper and comments start getting too heated. He is polite and wise, helpful and deferent, a steadying presence, fiercely protective and trustworthy. Dromarch is truly the most respectable member of the group, along with the... young Titan referred to as Gramps, but I know little of him,” she finished with a single nod.</p><p>“There was another amongst their ranks, though. He, too, was at the summit as another neutral eyewitness and here during the attempt.”</p><p>“Zeke... exists,” Mòrag started, staring up at the ceiling with exasperation. Niall couldn’t help the muffled huff of a laugh at that, smiling at her fondly. Yes, they both had known a bit about him, though never really met him before. “He joined them a short time ago, as a special envoy sent by Indol, and I haven’t had as much of a chance to see him in action, but he fits in perfectly. As regal as a pebble in a shoe, pompous, a show-off, and truly could afford to be more refined. However, he is encouraging, and his abilities are undeniable, seeing them from up-close is impressive...”</p><p>“And you do enjoy a good fight,” Niall said, “maybe you could ask to spar with him.”</p><p>“There are more pressing things to attend to, needlessly exhausting ourselves when there’s dangers looming would be unwise. The risk of a third party seeing that or of some strange accident--which he is astonishingly prone of--taking place is too big for the current political climate.”</p><p>“But you want to.”</p><p>“Given the chance, I would love to punt him into the Cloud Sea.”</p><p>A laugh climbed up his throat, a little harder than he probably intended, interrupted with a wheeze and a whine as he continued chuckling, gently pressing his palm against the soreness of his ribs. Mòrag found that, even though she loathed to see Niall in discomfort, getting that laugh out of him lifted a weight from her chest. Hopefully, hopefully it did for him as well.</p>
<hr/><p>Exhausted as he was, Niall found himself awake. Lying on his less tender side on the bed, blanket loosely draped around him, itching wounds protected by bandages and under the little patches taped to his skin.</p><p>His back to the rest of the room, and just at his fingertips: the Core Crystal.</p><p>If they had seen him take it from the table, or had noticed it missing, they didn’t mention it.</p><p>He could hear voices talking softly, though he couldn’t distinguish what they were saying (the ringing in his ear remained, as he supposed close proximity to explosions were wont to cause, but the medic said it didn’t seem like permanent damage. Just another thing to wait out.). Mòrag had refused to leave his side for the most part, even when he relented after their conversation had started to dwindle with his yawns and he said he would try to catch some of the mandated rest both the medic and his body demanded. She had been in the room virtually since she carried him in, three paces away from him, at most, at all points.</p><p>Hours later, she was still sitting there on the chair close by his bed, hoping he was asleep and yet wanting to stand guard for his safety. (Dear sister, who had given up so much for him, from sleep to her freedom.)</p><p>But he knew she must be tired; she hadn’t yet noticed that he wasn’t out, or perhaps she knew, and didn’t know what words to offer, and still felt too... something, something they didn’t want to give a name to in fear it grew stronger, but something that made her reluctant to offer physical reassurance. And yet, wrung out by the events of the day and others prior, she remained here.</p><p>He wished she’d let herself take a moment to rest.</p><p>And he wasn’t the only one who did, as the other voice in the room got clearer, more commanding than her usual tone to her Driver. “Lady Mòrag, you will be of no use to him if you’re dead on your feet,” Brighid stated, and if Niall closed his eyes, he could see her staring the Special Inquisitor down--a feat in many ways, from the person it was directed at to the fact she could do that with her eyes closed. “At the very least, go refresh yourself for a spell.”</p><p>Mòrag’s sigh was tired and resigned. “...” Brighid offered her hand and helped her raise to her feet, allowing her expression to melt to an understanding smile, a wordless promise as she took the seat the other had left when she stepped away. “Thank you, Brighid.”</p><p>“No need. To make sure both of you are well and safe is my pleasure.” Steps started and slowly faded away, interrupted by the opening and closing of the door, the click going mostly unnoticed. It wasn’t too long before the Blade spoke again, gentle but clear, not just simple musing, “Majesty, you should sleep.”</p><p>It took a couple moments for Niall to muster the energy to reply, though he still had his back to her, lacking enough will to turn towards her when his right side ached more than the one he was lying on, his eyes still glued to the Crystal on his sheets. “Yes, that would be ideal.”</p><p>“And yet you aren’t.”</p><p>A pause, only punctuated with a short, hummed exhalation from him.</p><p>A hand found its place between his shoulders, and he sighed as it rubbed gentle, slow circles to soothe him. The heat was as familiar as it wasn’t. He received little in physical reassurance, though that was not unusual for someone of his title, even at his age and earlier; but Brighid’s ether signature was one he had known for more than half his life, and it was warm and resonated in just the right way to remind him of Mòrag too--both had such intense flames when needed, and yet he had never once fear being burned. The heat was just low and controlled enough that the lingering, stinging heat on the burns he earned earlier only flared for a second. “Tired but too much in your head, I imagine...?”</p><p>He didn’t reply, his hand moving subconsciously to the Core Crystal, realizing he did so only when his fingertips touched the cool surface. Was he driven by an instinct to protect himself from the heat with water he knew this one held? Or was it something simpler, driven to seek anything to fill the empty feeling where there had once been something?</p><p>Questions lingered in his mind for only a second, thoughts vanishing when his pressing touch found something that not only didn’t feel like comforting water ether, but that didn’t feel like anything more than a rock polished to mirror sheen. The lack of the pulse, of a familiar current, made him sigh so deeply his shoulders shook.</p><p>“Please, Majesty, don’t dwell on it,” Brighid said, a concerned frown etching into her expression, even though she knew he couldn’t see it; she hardly needed her Keen Eye to guess what was troubling him, “Aegaeon’s Crystal will remain dormant until he’s ready, and we Blades know our destiny. He wouldn’t want it to weigh so heavy on you.”</p><p>“But it does, Brighid. He didn’t...” Niall’s voice, quiet like a whisper, faltered around the words. His hand clenched into a loose fist. “He did as I asked, and he did it perfectly. He shouldn’t...” he shouldn’t have had to lose himself, lose the memories and that life.</p><p>The Blade remained silent for a couple moments, crystalline hand pausing its movement. He waited, unsure of what he could expect and yet unable to let it concern him when there were heavier things on his mind. “... Emperor Niall,” she finally called, her voice firm, “don’t nurture guilt for his current state. It is an honor for every member of the proud Ardainian army to fight and risk life and limb for the crown of the Empire, be it a new soldier or an heirloom like him and I.”</p><p>She didn’t give him enough time to come up with words of his own before continuing on: “It’s a miracle that you returned to us, but even then, if he had had to choose between you and himself, he would choose you a thousand times over without hesitation. And not merely because of his capacity to return as a Blade.”</p><p>Curling up lightly, Niall remained silent for moments longer. Yes, he knew that, he had known that for many years. It was something he had been taught for as long as he could remember; as the head of the Empire, one of the last two of the bloodline, his life was precious. Worth more than others’, though it wasn’t a thought he enjoyed. “I know, and I’m thankful for the lives that are given for the sake of my land and people and my own, even though I dearly wished blood need not be spilled...”</p><p>“Your goal of prosperity and peace for Mor Ardain, and truly all of Alrest, is a noble one, Emperor Niall,” Brighid said, “but it is unfortunately not one that can be achieved by avoiding blood being spilled and lives cut short. These lands and people have seen far too much war to be able to settle into peace with ease. There are needs that must be met and, to do so, others’ comfort and desires might be upset, and it is expected to find resistance to change, and even past all that, there are always those who will seek to disrupt careful balance to gain something--be it power, wealth, or fame.</p><p>“It is a heavy duty, this that has been granted to you by birthright,” she continued, letting her voice turn gentler, “but you are the Emperor of Mor Ardain, not its Titan. You are allowed to put down the weight from your shoulders, share it with others around you, those you can trust.”</p><p>He curled up a little tighter, bringing the Crystal closer to his chest, feeling the strange numbness on his hand and the empty space between his lungs. “Am I?” he whispered, sounding small, “am I allowed to do so?”</p><p>“No one can bear such burdens without consequences, worse so in your lonesome,” Brighid replied, lulling, a soft smile on her lips, “I thank you for having shared your worries with me, even if my words seemed to admonish you having those thoughts. It isn’t my place to talk to you like that, and for that I apologize, Your Majesty.”</p><p>He sighed again, quietly, letting himself uncurl a little. “It’s nothing to apologize for. Sometimes, that’s what I need, just... someone being honest without so much... hesitation caused by my title. I do appreciate it, Brighid.”</p><p>“You have such a strong, gentle soul... don’t let it be hardened and closed off,” she said, a quiet plea. “Guilt is heavy, and loss is painful, I don’t have to tell you this, but it’s a pain that we must let come, learn from... and let pass.”</p><p>And she thought that would be it, the end of the conversation, hoping that it had helped soothe the boy’s soul enough for him to get some of the much-needed rest. And then his voice drifted again, a quiet mumble that she almost mistook for the wind outside: “He blamed himself, didn’t he...”</p><p>Brighid lowered her head a little, her flames flickering. She had known Aegaeon for so long, in this life and through the tales on pages written in a past that was and wasn’t hers; she knew his loyalty was unmatched, the pain that ate away at his last moments when he saw his downed Driver (she was certain she would feel the same gnawing agony in her core, if she had been in his place). “Aegaeon’s duty was to protect you and all you held dear, if it was within his power.” And he did (and didn’t).</p><p>A pause, long like the one before, and then words spoken gingerly.</p><p>“I wish I could tell him there was nothing for him to apologize for... and have it actually have the meaning I intend.” His breath shuddered. “And I... I’m sorry that he was taken from all of us.”</p><p>Silence fell again, and Brighid simply continued gently rubbing his back as he closed his eyes. Her palm felt warm and summoned crackling of dancing flames in his mind, ushering him to rest in safety like a fireplace. By the time Mòrag returned, hair still in a tight bun and her clothes changed out to something more comfortable even when the whipswords remained steadfast on her, Brighid had plucked the Core Crystal from the bed and had placed it at the side table, her hands crossed over her lap.</p><p>“Couldn’t rest.” Mòrag said, finally, after standing with her back to the door for a couple moments, and Brighid understood. Wordlessly, she strode in and carefully sat at the edge of the bed, looking down at the sleeping face of her little brother.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ever-changing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Decisions to make, some unfairly difficult and others strangely easy. Sometimes, both at the same time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>(He stood in the middle of the throne room, looking ahead at the commanding shape of the chair that marked the position given to him by birthright, a great silhouette of dark gray, deep red, and gold, crowned with the emblem of the Empire above it on the wall. A position he was not yet allowed full control of, in account of his age, but that he ultimately had long since decided to use in a way much different to his predecessors.</p><p>Mor Ardain had been an empire with its history written in blood for generations. He intended to change the ink, though there were many that had a say in the penning who weren’t keen on said alteration.</p><p>But he knew himself not alone. Some senators were hesitant yet slowly warming up to his ideas, he knew a great portion of his people would prefer for things to change and not have looming death so callously hovering over them, and would be willing to assume his fellow Ardainians weren’t the only ones who shared the sentiment. He knew his sister, Special Inquisitor and strongest Driver of the Empire, would side with him, and with her vote of confidence, the support of many who trusted and admired her.</p><p>And, of course, one of his most reliable advisors and companions, who knew intrinsically what he desired. A shield and pillar he would trust over almost anyone, standing by his side currently.</p><p>He didn’t need to glance over to know Aegaeon was also looking in the same direction, serene and prepared, with the ether link loosely allowing a swirl like water flow between them. It always did help Niall clear his mind and calm his nerves, and he’d like to think it also helped ground his Blade.</p><p>With so much weight on both their shoulders, it was dearly appreciated to be able to provide mutual support without much need for words--something he knew the other struggled with at times.</p><p>A sound from the entrance of the room, the doors that should open to a great elevator.</p><p>“Aegaeon.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Familiar script, both a mutual request and permission. The Blade leaving his side, the link between them petering out, leaving calm waters like a mirror.</p><p>Immediately, something wrong.</p><p>The room engulfed in dark shadows and blurred edges. Gnawing heat and something sharp.</p><p>Something struck him like muffled agony, tearing a gasp from his lungs, and yet the lack of air was laughable compared to the draining he felt at his core. The lake forcibly emptied, like a hole on a dam’s wall. The thick metal floor with its deep red carpet giving way from under him, worsening the clench in his chest with the drop, lodging his heart in his throat. His eyes shut in terror, his resolve begging him open them to--to see what?)</p><p>Niall awoke with a start, eyes snapping open and meeting the ceiling. He couldn’t sit up immediately, paralyzed for a moment, and perhaps that was for the best, as stinging washed through him when he brought his arm up to rub at his face. The bandages were a little stiff, the wounds tender, and a weird emptiness gnawing in his chest, which he tried to loosen up with a deep breath.</p><p>Remnants of the dream fogged the edges of his mind, leaving lines like claw marks as they vanished into nothing, only the unnamed fear and discomfort that squeezed his heart. His hand pressed lightly to the patch on his cheek, the pain stirring the fear and making him more aware of his surroundings--curious, to shake off the last of the bad dream, he had to touch upon that which caused it.</p><p>A quick glance around told him he was alone. There wasn’t a window in this room, though the lights were set just low enough to allow for everything to be visible without bothering the once-sleeping occupant. The table to the side of the bed had a new glass of water and, next to it, the Core Crystal.</p><p>It took him a little longer than he’d like to admit before he willed himself to reach for the glass.</p><p>Getting out of the bed was a challenge, both mentally and physically, and he had barely managed to twist the doorknob when he heard a small clatter on the other side. The sound wasn’t unusual, and it was followed by a voice he recognized.</p><p>“Your Majesty? Please return to bed, we will have the medic here shortly.”</p><p>“That’d be appreciated, thank you, Captain...” he replied, glancing around at the corridor and catching sight of another person hurrying by the corner, too quick to catch details on the uniform, but the spot of color on the sleeve was big enough to indicate it being high-ranking, “may I ask why you are the one standing guard?”</p><p>“The Special Inquisitor and Lady Brighid are talking with Colonel Foirbeis and others in charge of the Units, reports must be done, and a sweep of the entire ship is being performed as precaution, Your Majesty,” she informed, voice slightly muffled by the dark helmet. “Two of us were set to stand guard of your door while said combing is taking place--chances of anything being out of place are low, as these were done multiple times yesterday too, but the Special Inquisitor requested it and none of us are willing to let anything slip past us again.”</p><p>“I see...”</p><p>“Excuse my insistence, Your Majesty, but you really should return to resting. With what occurred yesterday, putting more strain on yourself is dangerous.”</p><p>Niall gave a small smile, she wouldn’t notice that it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will,” he agreed, “though, may I request you prepare an ethercom? I wish to speak with someone, but I doubt I’ll be able to get to them in person.”</p><p>She saluted, nodding as well. “Of course! Once my partner comes back with the medic, I’ll personally set it up.”</p><p>He nodded back. “That’d be appreciated, Captain.”</p><p>“It’d be my pleasure. May I ask who it is you wish to speak with, to ensure I get a suitable line?”</p><p>“I believe the receptor furthest away would be His Eminence, Praetor Amalthus.”</p>
<hr/><p>The medic and his Blade arrived not too long after, performing a cursory check on his state and bidding him to down some more food. They talked with each other, writing down parameters and other such data that he was only half listening to as he thought of the best way to word his requests; what mattered was that the results were stable, promising even, and thus they gave him the go-ahead to walking around as long as he took heed to his fatigue levels... and that there was something they wanted to find some more information about, which caught his interest. They couldn’t explain much, other than something of his ether’s flow looking unusual--not exactly life-threatening, but strange nonetheless.</p><p>Niall, now free of the bandages and the patch, though still sporting the pinkish lines of healing lacerations clear across the bridge of his nose and limbs and a somewhat angrier red closer to his jaw, thanked them and requested them to report when they had more information, an indirect request for them to leave the room. Straightening his clothes and making himself presentable, he sat at the table and rested one hand over the other, waiting for the ethercom to beep and light up, announcing an incoming reception.</p><p>It didn’t take long for the call to get through, and he was grateful that it wasn’t of the captain reporting that the Praetor had refused the connection for a short summit. Any anxiety he’d have was well hidden as he greeted the other with practiced, regal politeness.</p><p>A greeting, the polite expression of relief at seeing that he was up and about with seemingly only minimal lasting damage (the attempt on both rulers’ lives hadn’t gone unnoticed, though it was mostly gossip from soldiers and guards overhearing each other). And of course, the reason for the call in the first place: the request.</p><p>Praetor Amalthus’s voice was clear through the communicator: “You wish to hear my thoughts on allowing your Special Inquisitor to accompany the Aegis still.”</p><p>“That’s correct, Your Eminence,” Niall said, “I believe she would be a great asset for them, as they have fought together and relied on each other for a number of weeks as they travelled through the regions of Mor Ardain and Leftheria, even Temperantia.”</p><p>“Queen Raqura and the Urayan people might see this as an attempt to have the group swayed by Ardainian influence.”</p><p>“I am aware of the possibility they would perceive it in such a way, but personally believe the aid the best Driver my people can offer, whom they have already worked with for a time by their own choice and on the latter leg of that journey by request of Indol’s envoy, on the treacherous quest they’re undertaking far outweighs an erroneous belief that we would be trying to take such deceptive measures.</p><p>“The mission that the Aegis and her group herald would benefit the whole of Alrest,” he continued, tapping his fingers on the knuckles of his other hand, both on his lap, “aiding them would be beneficial in the long run. The Special Inquisitor has a good head on her shoulders, she can provide guidance to navigate dangerous situations, be it in battle or negotiations, that the group might encounter, just like she has done priorly.”</p><p>“Eloquent argument,” Amalthus commented, a brow quirking almost imperceptivity, “as one would expect of the proud Emperor of Mor Ardain. Well then, will you be informing Queen Raqura as well?”</p><p>“Transparency would be the best policy. Whether she believes me, however, is not in my jurisdiction.”</p><p>“And you’re certain that the Special Inquisitor will not be trying to influence them to aid Mor Ardain over the other regions?”</p><p>The question bothered him, as if they would do something so underhanded, but he could understand the need to reiterate, especially with the current political climate. Yes, Mòrag was one of the proudest Ardainians he’s ever met, who loved her land and people dearly, but he didn’t think her ever capable of trying to influence favoritism that way; to even imply she would do that was insulting. “Yes, I am certain.” Niall kept himself steadfast and calm, hiding any trace of annoyance he might feel from his expression and tone--something practiced and perfected. “It is my belief that they would not be so easily swayed in the first place. After all, their goals might affect all of Alrest, and from what I’ve been informed, they have members and connections with nearly every different region.”</p><p>“A lofty goal, one would dare say,” the Praetor added, tilting his head minutely.</p><p>That, Niall could agree to. “Most would call it a dreamer’s goal. But they have hope to accomplish it. I have to admit, I would be inclined to rest some hope with them as well.”</p><p>Hope. What a cherished and dangerous thing that was.</p><p>“I see no ulterior motive to your request, and you are correct in saying they could use some help in navigating delicate matters. You have my agreement.”</p><p>“And you, my gratitude, Your Eminence.” They nodded at each other and the feed cut off with yet another beep.</p>
<hr/><p>Working up the mindset and words he needed for the next call was, for whatever reason, easier than the first. Contacting the Praetor was simply... unnerving, in some way.</p><p>“Emperor Niall Ardanach.”</p><p>“Queen Raqura.”</p><p>Certainly, talking with the leader of the Urayan people should be just as unsettling, something to be cautious about, and yet it felt easier somehow. He wished they could find a better middle ground than the eggshells they knew to be wary of with each other, but at least they both knew of the eggshells in the first place.</p><p>Whether in person or through the image of the ethercom, the presence the woman commandeered was very much felt. Someone who had power and knew how to use it, with years of experience at the head of it all, but she still had the decency to allow surprise color her expression for a couple seconds before brushing it away. “... I must say, after yesterday I did not expect to receive a message of yours, especially so soon.” Why, of course, most leaders would loathe to be seen by an enemy when they’re weakened. It wasn’t like Niall enjoyed it much in particular either. “I hope you know the only reason this message has been accepted is for awareness of the situation.”</p><p>And she needed to know if the rumor of his survival was true, what better way than to have the person himself speak? (If not to satisfy her own curiosity, she owed him this much for his actions.)</p><p>“I’m aware, and I appreciate your agreement to listen,” Niall said, a calm hum to his tone. “I will make this short. I merely wish to inform you personally of the fact I am sending my Special Inquisitor with the Aegis’s group to Tantal. As we both know, there are a number of dangerous areas they must traverse before they can entertain the thought of having an audience with King Eulogimenos.”</p><p>The frown on her face spoke volumes. “And you expect me to believe that’s your only reasoning?”</p><p>He did his best not to show his disappointment or sigh aloud, the little sound that did escape him hopefully not picked up by the communicator. “No, I must say I didn’t expect you to believe me, Queen Raqura. But I implore you to do so,” Niall asked, keeping his tone level still and closing his eyes for a moment. “Whether you trust my word or not, however, won’t change my orders. I will reiterate that all the agreements that had been met during the summit of nations will occur, orders have been sent already and I have no intentions to go back on those. My greatest motive is to aid the group by sending my Special Inquisitor as their support, whom they have already worked with in recent times. This has been discussed with His Eminence, Praetor Amalthus.”</p><p>Queen Raqura leaned in for a moment, fingers stapled in front of her as she thought, her eyes still somewhat mistrustful. “You tell me this just to have us informed, then?”</p><p>Niall nodded. “I have no underhanded intentions, and I believe transparency on this matter is of great importance as well. I was informed of the help she has provided to them in different matters and believe they could still use her wisdom and experience, as they did on their travels through Leftheria. Awareness of the possibility that the Aegis’s group accepted the inclusion of the Special Inquisitor again as assistance would be better acquired before it takes place, and from someone of equal standing, not through a report or from gossip or a third party.”</p><p>He could feel her searching him for any falsehood betrayed by his expression or tone before leaning back, sitting straight, and giving a single curt nod. “A smart move. Very well, consider us informed of this situation, Emperor Niall.”</p><p>He returned the nod, allowing the smallest quirk of his lips in relief. “Thank you, Queen Raqura. I wish you a safe trip back to your capital.”</p><p>“Likewise.”</p><p>The image faded with another beep and he let out the sigh that had been building for a while, stretching his arms above his head carefully before leaning back against the chair, relieved to be done with these talks as painlessly as possible. Like checkmarks on a list in his head. Now then, with those matters tended to, he needed--</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be resting, Your Majesty,” a voice rang a little behind him, close to the door, with a tone that was definitely wry.</p><p>Of course, he jumped a foot on the air and winced, rubbing his side a little before turning towards the sound, eyes wide. “Brighid! I didn’t realize you were there.”</p><p>“Lady Mòrag sent me to check on you,” she replied, her expression neutral with what he knew was suspicion, “the guard said you were attending to some important matters when I asked for updates.”</p><p>Ah, busted. Niall could only offer a pacifying smile, head tilting slightly towards her. “I suppose you heard that last conversation, then.”</p><p>She sighed, resting one hand to her chest and furrowing her brow a little. “Your Majesty, knowing how Lady Mòrag is and with what took place just yesterday, do you truly think she will accept to be sent out...?”</p><p>“If I ask her to, she will,” Niall stated, the sureness in his tone unwavering before he allowed himself to relax his posture. “I know her, Brighid, and I understand why you ask that. I know my safety is one of her greatest concerns but having her... caged at my side would not help. She should be an active, driving force in matters, I can feel it, and any role that awaits inside the Palace would be ill-fitting at best. I would never be able to forgive myself if I forced her to take a position like that when there is already so much for her out there. With them.</p><p>“And to send or keep only you, the Jewel of Mor Ardain...” he continued before she could speak, “I know you more than capable to act on your own with utmost efficiency, yet I can’t shake off the feeling that whatever is to come would be better approached with great caution, and the balance that you provide each other. As well as the fact I’d rather not have you two needlessly separated for the stretches of time that might be ahead.”</p><p>“That doesn’t truly assuage the worries for your own safety, Your Majesty,” she said, lips downturned.</p><p>“You two have tested and screened every member of the Imperial Special Guard Unit, you have known them for years,” he replied, both soothing and persistent. “Very little could have prepared us for what happened yesterday, but Colonel Foirbeis and his team will undoubtedly work double time to comb for any danger, and with the incident in Temperantia just barely averted, the pro-war factions of the Senate will be lying low for a while. Truly, I don’t believe my safety should be a pressing concern for you two for the time being.”</p><p>As gentle and soft-hearted as Niall could be, Brighid knew that when he needed to be serious and stubborn, he could easily match and surpass people multiple times his age. He was prepared, he wouldn’t put a plan forth if he hadn’t thought of different angles that it could be deconstructed and found a way or reason to still have it in place. She knew he wouldn’t budge, and in that regard, he was so much like her Driver.</p><p>Sometimes, she hated how smart and eloquent he could be. She only sighed through her nose, no use wasting time and energy on that. Perhaps she should take that idea of screening the guards that would be appointed to ensure their abilities and resolve, take care of that while Mòrag focused on other matters.</p><p>Her train of thought slowed as Niall spoke again: “... Brighid, I want your truth. Would you be opposed to having another teammate... in the form of a Blade?”</p><p>“Majesty?” She followed his hands as he straightened and reached for something on the table. “...”</p><p>“I know doing this would add yet another worry for my safety,” he mused, looking at the dull Crystal on his hands, “but it would lighten my conscience and assuage my own fears.”</p><p>Brighid remained silent as she looked at him, examining him. Niall met her eyes, a tired sadness in them. “He loved you, you know?” she said after a moment, dipping her head a little. “I can assure you he would be more than content to return at your side.”</p><p>“And I love him, Brighid. That’s why I want to do this too,” he replied, voice quieter, looking down at the Core as he brought it closer. “To help keep Mòrag safe... and for Aegaeon to experience something more. I want him to be able to act, to truly have a hand in bettering the world, and his abilities would be wasted at my side if--if I’m even capable of resonating with him again, in the first place,” his voice faltered with the last sentence and an ache she didn’t expect squeezed her core. He took a shuddering inhalation before looking up at her, expression somewhere between somber and sheepish. “I hope you can forgive me this selfishness.”</p><p>Someone so young shouldn’t have to wear such an expression. But neither should he have these responsibilities on his shoulders or the looming threats over his head. It was something she had mused about before in her journals in different lives, when the ones who awakened her were still too young to be forced into such weights, how cruel the world and fate and people were to put them in such a position. It’s why she always fought so strongly for her Drivers, why she tested them so fiercely, as if her Core knew the responsibilities that would fall on them should she awaken. Niall might not be her Driver, but she thought she understood why Mòrag was so headstrong and adamant in protecting him and what he stood for.</p><p>And wasn’t that the reason she had awakened, after all?</p>
<hr/><p>While he had agreed to rest some more at Brighid’s request, the nap was short-lived, and he grew restless in the room. There were still so many matters to attend to... and he had warned the fire Blade that he might fail her wish and where he would be found otherwise.</p><p>That’s the reason he found himself standing at the edge of a large table in the council room of the battleship, where a replica of the throne sat at the apex. He hadn’t been there for long, the walk here taken at a slow pace due to lingering fatigue, but he had made headway in organizing the stacks of papers to see which ones were of greater priority.</p><p>It wasn’t long before steps came from behind him, a single knock at the door the only announcement before them. He already knew who they belonged to--the guards on the other side of the door would have announced the person otherwise.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be up,” came the concerned words, with a gentleness that was reserved to things that could be counted on one hand. He turned slowly to face Mòrag, watching her standing tall and resolute at attention a little distance away--only one sword at her hip, the other likely with Brighid. The fretted frown etched on her expression was only half hidden by her visor, but it was clear as day in her eyes and voice, “it’s only been one day... please, don’t strain yourself.”</p><p>Niall smiled at her, reassuring even with the exhaustion showing under his eyes and creeping into his voice when he mused aloud, gaze returning to the stacks on the table. “Half a day off and look at all this paperwork!” there was amusement to his tone, almost sardonic, a chuckle underneath it, “I swear, it’s like they don’t want me to sleep at all.”</p><p>“Majesty...” she sighed, somewhere between mild admonishment and knowing how it is, truly. Regardless of what had just taken place, there were still too many responsibilities and decisions to sign off and send, too much to coordinate and ensure would work properly. The obligations of the Emperor were many, and they had no care for his state--physical, mental, or emotional.</p><p>“Special Inquisitor,” he said suddenly, starling her out of her thought to offer help with said paperwork as he turned to face her fully, raising his chin lightly to regard her with a semblance of ceremony and regality that always came easy to him, the stance polished and mastered with years of practice. “I hereby issue you new orders. It is my wish that you travel with the Aegis, as an emissary of the Empire. Guard her and defend her against her enemies until she reaches Tantal.”</p><p>“Guard... the Aegis?” she parroted, confusion painting her voice and expression with a broad brush.</p><p>Before she could question further, he continued: “I’ve already discussed it with His Eminence.” You need not worry about permissions or concerns with other nations, is what he meant.</p><p>But that wasn’t the pressing issue for her.</p><p>“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I... cannot accept,” she said, articulating each word slowly, as if dumbfounded at having to string the sentence together in the first place. “Just think about what happened yesterday. It would be sheer foolishness for me to leave your side.”</p><p>“Is that so?” the amusement remained, though this time it had changed to something more lively, almost childish. Mòrag couldn’t help voicing her confusion with a short ‘huh?’. He continued smiling, letting his hand rest on the table, and leaning a little against it. “I can see it in your eyes, I saw it last night. It’s clear that the Aegis... or rather, that boy has made a great impression on you.”</p><p>To speak so fondly of the boy who held such rare and precious hope, of the group as a whole... it all had affected her greatly, it had changed something, awakened and fed something that had always been a part of her. Niall saw Mòrag’s subtle frown melt into realization, morphing to understanding, and then to something almost like guilt.</p><p>“That’s not...” she started, trailing off soon after. “I’m your... Special Inquisitor. Ensuring Your Majesty’s safety is my only concern. To abandon that duty and go traveling...” There was something like scandal to her tone, shock that he would entertain such a thought.</p><p>But he could see it, and he wondered for a moment how to make her see as well. How obvious, how clear, the path she must take.</p><p>He turned, facing the table holding the stacks and... Mòrag followed his gaze when he didn’t say anything else, knowing him enough to be sure he had more to say to her statements, and that he was waiting for her to catch onto something. Her eyes fell on the darkened Core Crystal, sitting innocently next to the stacks.</p><p>Her breath stuck to the back of her throat for a second. “Aegaeon’s...?”</p><p>Her question was met with a slow exhalation, Niall’s shoulders dropping a little as he kept his eyes on it as well. Here goes something. “A Driver who cannot even protect himself is no Driver at all. Yesterday’s events have made me... keenly aware that I have no aptitude for it,” it was a fact he believed, the consequences of the action he made weighing heavy over him (it had cost the existence of someone he considered family, and that loss too painful to face yet), but it also did allow for another path, so he left the sentence in the air, glancing back at her and watching her expression change as she caught the meaning of his wording. To drive it deeper, he dared say it aloud: “It would be of more use in your hands.”</p><p>“Majesty...” her voice held a certain sadness, an itching to argue with him.</p><p>Niall shook his head before she could form words, straightening and--Mòrag was rendered speechless at the look on his eyes. “The world is changing, Mòrag,” he said, with a certainty that felt almost like that of a dreamer, the fledgling hope shining so brightly in his eyes it brought another equally young boy to mind. How fitting, his next words: “I trust you more than anyone to lend that boy the wisdom and strength he will need.” ‘Like you have done for me’ lingered unsaid in the air.</p><p>He saw her staring at him, struggling for words for a couple moments longer, and his eyes closed, the smile changing to something a little more melancholic and reminiscing--to say it was more familiar in his expression than the hope was a painful truth she had always wanted to change badly, she’d do anything to change that for him. “I miss it, you know. Lake Yewtle, in Gormott.”</p><p>It was... a strange turn to the conversation. “... what?”</p><p>He forged on, guiding her to what he wanted to get to in his subtle ways. “Remember when the two of us would shake off the servants and go swimming there?”</p><p>“Ah... Yes. Of course.” Both of them too clever and stubborn and wanting more, new, different.</p><p>“Kids from the nearby village would come too!” A laugh tingled under his words, leaving him in a sigh filled with a quiet kind of joy. “Good times.”</p><p>“Majesty...” she said, a smile on her tone as well, even if tinged with nostalgia. Things had been simpler in the past, when there had been just... fewer duties to attend to, a little more freedom. She did not regret the path she took, what brought them to what the now, but...</p><p>He brought it to words in a way she knew she wouldn’t be able to: “If Mor Ardain--no, the whole of Alrest could be like that again... wouldn’t it be beautiful...?”</p><p>To be able to interact with others so freely, to not be constantly on guard and mistrust everyone that hadn’t already proven themselves time and time again. To have a little more freedom, fewer duties, a peace that was not tentative and fragile, and conflicts that could be worked on without taking extreme measures.</p><p>That was a small child’s dream, ignorant of the dark natures in some hearts, of the cruelty that everyone was capable of. Such a world was not possible, and both of them knew it keenly. But it wasn’t wrong to work to align the world with that dream, to wish for it to be easier--if not for one, for those that would come after.</p><p>The vestiges of the smile remained on her face, proud and pleased to hear he still wanted to reach for that world, that desire he had confided in her years ago, even before the crown had been placed on his temple. How strong he was to fight for that when the world kept trying to pull him to the deeply carved path of his nation’s history. “Is that my new duty, then?”</p><p>Niall smiled at her, eyes meeting hers. But it wasn’t a confirmation just yet and Mòrag waited patiently as he turned, following his gaze as looked up at the throne at the head of the room. He hummed as he mused aloud, “in truth, it should have been you sitting in this chair right now...”</p><p>That had been something they had discussed a long time ago as well, her reply had still not changed: “The imperial line has always passed from father to son, on the day that Your Majesty was born, that’s exactly what happened. I knew that day would come. It came as no surprise.”</p><p>She hoped he knew how proud she was, of him in general and for his abilities and his steadiness to remain true to himself despite the pressure. If she had been the one at the head, would she have had the same aim? The same resilience to those goals?</p><p>She was just as stubborn as him, if not more, but she was far quicker to anger as well, lagging on that subtlety that he had mastered.</p><p>“You were raised by my father to take the throne of the Empire,” he reiterated, just as sure of her abilities as she was of his, thoughts swirling to gratitude to their parents for a moment--if not for them, they wouldn’t be standing here like this, “as befits the daughter of my Lord Uncle Eandraig.”</p><p>Mòrag nodded, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting his again. “And I am grateful for it. If not for him, I’d have never met Brighid.” Would she have been allowed to try and resonate with her, had she not been prepared for the throne? She couldn’t imagine herself without the fire Blade by her side. “Never have met them.” And what a particular group they were, capable to take her by surprise and rope her into things unexpected and wonderful and frustrating all the same. Her voice took to something like wistfulness, “I’d have missed out on so much.”</p><p>“There,” he said like a quiet eureka, his smile widening and making his eyes squint a little, “those are your true feelings.” His smile grew at the shock on her expression as she realized the trap he had set for her, to have her admit things aloud so even she wouldn’t be able to deny them. His eyes closed, contemplating. “A magnificent power resides in you. Mòrag, power like yours exists to be used.” And that couldn’t happen if she were to stay in the Palace guarding him.</p><p>“Niall...”</p><p>If he had the faintest trace of hesitation left, it vanished in that moment. “You’ve been tied down long enough,” he stated and gave her the offer that always felt like it had never been given to her: choice. “Follow your heart, Mòrag Ladair.”</p><p>“I have no words. Thank you, Your Majesty.” The gratitude was palpable, and she closed her eyes in thought, and he knew her next words before they were spoken. “Very well then, I hereby accept the task you have assigned me.”</p><p>“That’s the Mòrag I know and love,” he said, fondness clear in his tone as he bowed his head slightly with his nod. “Make me proud, more than you already do.”</p><p>She nodded back, bowing her head in deference, and giving him a salute.</p><p>“You aren’t the only one I wish to unshackle, though,” he said after a moment, his joy dimming as he turned to the table again. Her own expression changed to something guarded, unsure, as he took the Core Crystal and cut the space between them with a couple steps, cupping it on both hands. “I meant what I said earlier, and... I know you don’t really like this. But please...” he paused, taking a deep breath and lifting his gaze to meet hers again, offering it to her. “When he’s ready, bring him back to us.”</p><p>Her hands fell again by her sides, fists closed. “Majesty, I... to take him from your side would leave you too defenseless.”</p><p>Niall shook his head. “I trust those you and Brighid have assigned for my guard, Special Inquisitor. I will be as safe as I can be, inside the Palace’s walls. But you are out there, in the front lines. Please, let he who was my trusted shield be with you, his abilities would be of far more use by your side than mine.”</p><p>Mòrag remained still, conflicted, biting back arguments she wasn’t certain how to voice. Her brother was very capable and the head of the Empire, to underestimate him would be insulting, and she prided herself in her choices for his guards, knew them loyal and powerful, trained by herself on multiple occasions. Underestimating them would be insulting herself and both the imperial Blades, who had tested them to see if they were fit for the duty.</p><p>But she was worried for the young boy who had already gone through so much.</p><p>Catching onto the conflict dancing in her eyes, Niall spoke up again, “If Aegaeon can help in any way, I want nothing more than for him to support you, Mòrag. You don’t have to awaken him if you don’t want to, but please take him with you. We don’t know what awaits in the future, yet I don’t doubt trouble will meet you, and you’ll be far from Mor Ardain,” there was a soft, shaking kind of plead in his tone as he continued, “I eagerly await the return of all of you in your rightful places by my side, if you’ll do me that honor. All three of you.”</p><p>She closed her eyes, her eyebrows knitted.</p><p>The memory of him limply on her arms, the harsh red of the fresh burns and the warmth of his body fading as his blood spilled. The raw, anguished cry that had teared from her chest, that she hadn’t realized was hers until she felt herself gasp for breath.</p><p>She couldn’t bear the thought of having their places switched, of his reaction were she to be felled in battle or worse. And this was him begging her to not die, doing anything he could to ensure she wouldn’t.</p><p>How could she ever deny him this?</p><p>She steeled herself and placed her hand on his, gently closing her fingers around the dull Crystal. “We will all return to you, Niall.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And this part ends but... well, I went off about the idea. :'3c SO here for technically the next part and the beginning of the canon-compliant AU: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569632/chapters/72674058</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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